


The God Emperor's Personal Swordmaster

by idiom



Series: Through the Dunes into Sparta [2]
Category: 300 (2006), Frank Herbert's Children of Dune (2003), mcfassy - Fandom
Genre: Community: mcfassy, M/M, McFassy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 04:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiom/pseuds/idiom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new calm spread throughout the city of Arrakeen. The city's former ruler was no more; fallen to her death from the height of the palace terrace. Now Leto has returned with an unexpected companion and Duncan is less than amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY I finished my last exam for the Spring on Friday and can now start writing again! I'm separating it into chapters this time, so I can actually release some of it. Enjoy~

  


Stelios sat alone on an ocean of golden sand. All was still across the horizon. The sky above darkened to a brilliant fulvous colour as the sun set over the deep desert dunes. The dull roar of sandworms could be heard in the distance, but all was still. Stelios waited.

There was moment in the sand before him. It dipped like ripples in a pond before a hand slipped up through it followed by a head of dark hair and a familiar face.

Leto let out a dry gasp as he pulled himself up. Sand poured his body as he breached the surface of the dunes.

Stelios stood then and approached the boy. He reached out an arm to help pull Leto the rest of the way out of the sands. The young prince came to a stand on shaky legs, but after a few breaths, he calmed. He took a moment to examine his new form as the Spartan warrior eyed him with an apprehensive gaze.

Leto’s right hand side was dotted with the larva of sandworms. The did not move, rather they harden to his skin creating an intricate exoskeleton. Slowly over time they would work towards each other to cocoon Leto’s limbs one by one.

“Such strange little creatures with the ability grant you such power; to do this to your skin,” Stelios murmured, tracing the natural patterns casing Leto’s shoulder.

“No,” Leto replied, not yet looking up from his examination of his new limb. “My skin is not my own, not anymore.”

Stelios'hand moved to the side of Leto’s neck. He let his thumb stroke over the rough shell that was now there. His other hand wound around Leto’s back and they stepped closer to one another. 

Leto's fingers tangled in Stelio's lengthy blond hair. He pulled the taller man down towards him. Their lips met in an intense kiss that was bordering possessive from both sides. 

Stelio's palm ran down the young prince's back before his fingers hooked on the edge of his new exoskeleton. His calloused fingertips caressed the rough edge of the skin while Leto moaned softly into his mouth.

The prince let his encased hand run down Stelio's broad chest. Leto's fingertip smoothed over the warrior's nipple though the black fabric of his stillsuit causing him to hiss.

Stelios drew back from the kiss, bitting Leto's lower lip and pulling it as he moved back. The flesh slipped gently from his teeth. 

“Amazing,” Stelios murmured against Leto's reddened lips. “What does this mean for you?”

Leto gave Stelio's a final quick kiss. “I suppose I will find out with time.” He smiled as he spoke, but his expression slowly turned grim. “It was what I had to do for my people.”

(o-O-o)

Testing his new power, Leto disappeared with a flurry over the dunes only to appear moments later at Stelios' back with a big grin in place. He moved so fast it was as if he ceased to exist before materializing once more. The ablilty was... impressive, to say the least.

“How fast can you run, Spartan?” Leto asked from behind the larger man. With a laugh he disappeared as Stelios made to turn, reappearing in front of him not moments later.

Stelios shook his head, chuckling as he brushed the sand kicked up in Leto's wake off of himself. “I can run quite fast, but I'm sure you may still have a chance to beat me,” he answered with a cheeky smile.

Once more, Leto's smile became a frown. They needed to be back in Arrakeen. With his new power he was sure he would reach the city walls by dawn. “I will run to the next town and find a airship.”

“No,” Stelios said firmly. “Return to your city with haste, I will follow.” He grasped Leto's shoulder; a gesture of assurance. “You have great strength, Leto. Use it and free your city.”

Leto nodded his head in understanding, but his expression showed that he was still concerned. “I would not leave you alone in the deep desert, you've only your stillsuit and whatever provisions we have left.”

“I may not be a Freman, but I know there ways.”

“Do you speak in riddles, Spartan?” Leto wondered aloud as he let out a hesitant laugh.

“I like to keep you curious.” He touched Leto's chin and kissed his lips briefly. “I will join you shortly, little prince. Now go.”

“If you are not in my city within a day, I will come looking for you.”

Stelios replied with his roguish smile. “I will have to be quick then won't I.”

(o-O-o)

With his new speed, Leto made it across the desert almost instantly. He went first to his sister, Ghanima, to see that she was alright. They embraced with a familiarity that only two as bonded as they were.

Together they confronted Alia in the grand court hall. Their Aunt was crazed, obviously possessed by a personality not her own. She called for her loyal guards to kill them, but Leto found his new strength made fighting these trained soldiers come as easy to him as flying had before.

The guards lay dead or broken around Leto, his blue eyes glowing with the strength of a thousand ages. He gave Alia a choice; trail and execution or suicide. In a moment of clarity, she made her decision.

Just like that, a new calm spread throughout the city of Arrakeen. Their former ruler, Alia, was gone; fallen to her death from the high ledge of the palace terrace. Leto and Ghanima stood side by side with as the new rulers of the Atreides Empire. Their grandmother, the Lady Jessica, advocated their ascendancy, but soon after that she left Arrakeen. She did not wish to spend any more time in the city haunted by the deaths of her children.

(o-O-o)

Dawn turned to dusk over the renewed city.

Leto was beginning to worry for his warrior. He was making plans to go fourth once more into the desert to find Stelios when a steward rushed towards him across his office floor.

“God Emperor!”

Leto looked up from the deep desert map spread out across his desk. The title and formality that came with it was still unfamiliar, but he replied in kind. “Yes, steward Jaka?”

“Th-there is a sandworm at the gate!”

Leto frowned. “What?”

There was a progression of guards as well as a few of the lords and ladies of the court at Leto's back as he made his way towards the city gate. He ordered them open. It was an order which the guards obeyed reluctantly.

Leto stepped across the threshold of the city gate. He was holding an arm to his eyes to block the sand whipping about as a great sandworm slid barely feet from him. The progression behind him crept forward anxious for an attack.

“How was that for quick?” a booming voice shouted from atop the creature.

 _Stelios?_ Leto looked up at the man, controlling the colossal sandworm with wonder. “You could have been faster,” Leto called back cheerfully.

Stelios threw his head back and laughed. He slid down from the worm, unlatching it and setting the creature free. It slid back into the sands, quickly disappearing from sight.

The members of the court stood behind Leto. They were all in various states of unease. Their fearful voices filled the air with troubled cries.

“Who is this man, God Emperor?”

“Will he command the sandworms to attack the city?”

“Is he one of Alia's followers?”

“Good people! No!” Leto assured them, his tone no less joyful. “He is mine.”

Standing before them, Stelios smiled.

(o-O-o)

Leto was glad; glad for his new life and the renewal of his city. In spite of that, he was still internally overcome with a sense of regret. Thankfully Stelios was there with him now. At dawn, Leto recounted the events of the previous day to him. While the Lords and Ladies of the court were congratulating him on his triumph over their former ruler, Stelios offered a voice of consolation.

They stood by the great archway from which Alia had leapt to her death. Stelios ran his hand down Leto's bare back. “She was possessed by abomination, Leto,” he whispered.

“I know,” the new Emperor murmured under his breath.

“The only cure is death.” Stelios assured Leto of this time and time again, but the youth was still uneasy.

“Is that another Freman tradition Spartans have kept?” he asked with an edge of cynicism in his voice.

Stelios let out a deep breath. “Come.”

(o-O-o)

That afternoon, Leto was touring Stelios around the palace halls, introducing the man to his sister and stepmother, Irulan. He was about to show Stelios to the rooms they would be sharing when a voice called out from across the hall.

“Leto!?”

“Duncan, finally I find you.” Leto sighed in relief at the sight of his uncle just as he remembered him.

Leto embraced the man as he came forward. In their embrace, Leto still kept his encased arm at his side. “I am sorry.”

“Alia was gone from us long ago, Leto. You are not to blame,” Duncan whispered into the hollow of Leto's throat as they held eachother. Duncan looked up and his pale-green eyes narrowed upon noticing Stelios standing just behind Leto. “Who is this?”

Leto pulled back gently from their embrace to make introduction. “Duncan Idaho, this is Stelios of Sparta; he was my saviour in the deep desert.”

Duncan glowered still. “A Freeman?”

“A Spartan,” Stelios corrected the man's snide assumption with a similarly inciting tone. “I rescued the young Atreides prince from your people when they came into my Land to kill him.”

“My people!?” Duncan shouted. Anger and chagrin coloured his face. Stelios insulted him and spoke of the God Emperor as if he were but a small child. “You insolent-”

“Where is Halleck.” Leto said, cutting off their argument before it could truly being. “I assume he escaped the desert storm after he failed to capture me. I must have words with him.”

“Halleck,” Duncan said, distracted. “He arrived back from some expedition mandated by the Lady Jessica.”

“Yes, well,” Leto murmured, crossing his arms over his chest, barred by the light robes he wore, “I think we have learned from recent events that not all is as it seems at times.”

Duncan nodded. He made a motion for one of the many court attendants to approached.

The steward bowed low. “I will take you to him, Emperor Atreides.”

“Thank you. Duncan, I trust you can see Stelios to the training grounds, he will be serving as...” Leto stopped, giving his warrior an appreciated glance over his shoulder as he decided what title would be best suited him, “Personal Swordmaster of the God Emperor.” Leto turned to addressed Stelios then with a softer, less officious tone. “I will come find you on the training grounds soon.”

“I eagerly await.” Stelios practically purred, causing Duncan's eyes to narrow. The man did not yet understand the context of their relationship.

As they left, he attendant spoke to Leto, his voice stumbling. “I swear Idaho speaks the truth, no one was aware of the Warmaster's involvement in your abduction. I believe Lady Alia had-” The man continued rattling off excuses as he led Leto further into the palace halls.

Duncan stood in the hall with only Stelios. He glared daggers at the smirking man, trying his hardest to keep a sneer from his lips. He turned on Stelio. “Are you coming?” he demanded, his voice gruff to say the least.

Stelios let out a quite snort, following behind. He shook his head, wondering what he'd done to offend the man. Duncan looked very much a warrior, tall and muscled. His pale-green eyes did not glow with spice and his hair was black with soft curls. The man might fit right in among the Spartan ranks if he wasn't so obviously joyless.

“It's funny,” Stelios murmured from behind Duncan, “Leto described you in a fond light.”

Duncan didn't even turn to address him. “What point is it that you're trying to make, Stelios?” He practically hissed, spitting his name venomously.

Stelios smirked. “I was just thinking what a shame it is that you've turned out to be such a prick.”

Duncan stopped abruptly in front of Stelios and spun around. “You were the funny man back home, weren't you?” He asked. His tone was snide.

Stelios didn't respond. He could tell an insult from a genuine question and Duncan seemed the type to chose such a frail and indirect fashion to slight him.

Duncan shook his head, still staring down steely green eyes. “Here... you're just another reprobate as far as I see. Remember that, Spartan.”

Stelios didn't follow, choosing to let Duncan go on ahead of him. After a while, he trailed behind the man and continued towards the training grounds with a grunt. He would have to have a talk with Leto. How was it that Stelios reminded him of Duncan Idaho at all - miserable fuck he turned out to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to finish this before posting the other Mcfassy/Cherik stories I'm working on. There are so many ideas running around in my head + prompts I've see online. But first, on with the STELETO/LETIOS!

“Stelios! Do you not understand the concept of a parry?!” Duncan shouted across the sandy field. His booming voice carried over the clatter of his men in training. “Stop taking every attack to your shield and fight him!”

_I'd rather take every hit to shield than to the head, you-_ Stelios didn't have time to finish that thought. The other guard came at him again with a heavy blow. Stelios growled and raised his shield to block the hit. He then moved back into position to counter. It was good to know, after a few days training with them, that Leto's guards weren't completely useless. The man Stelios currently fought was obviously a seasoned warrior. His arm was strong and his attack deadly if his opponent wasn't careful. For that reason, Stelios had chosen to take his attacks on shield; it would not do to misjudge the guard's strength and give futile attempt to parry a thrust. No. Stelios would wait for the perfect opening to strike a single blow for victory.

When his opponent grew tired, Stelios found and took that opening. He lauched himself forward and knocked the wind from the guard he'd been fighting with a powerful kick to his ribs. The blow sent the man stumbling back. He rested his weight on his sword and held up a yielding hand. 

Prideful in his victory, Stelios turned to see what his “captain” thought. He noticed that Duncan's mood didn't change. It apparently took quite a lot to impress him, not that Stelios was making that a goal. 

Duncan wandered across the field to them. His expression was sour as usual. “Stelios, though you were the victor, your form and tact was horrendous.”

Stelios' eyes narrowed. “I'm better with a spear,” he said in a snide tone. “Besides, your man there didn't seem to find any problem with my tact.”

Duncan scoffed. He looked over at the man Stelios had been fighting. The guard was both winded and overexerted while Stelios himself remained fresh. “Drink some water while your sparing partner recovers.” That said, Duncan turned and headed back to the dais where he continued to survey the rest of his men.

(o-O-o)

“Fucking cock.” Stelios murmured to himself over the water barrel. He'd gone to get a much needed drink as Duncan suggested. Still, the fact that he was ordered to take a break while the rest of the men were still training enraged him.

“He can be an awful bore sometimes, can't he?”

Stelios looked up. “Lady Ghanima.” The young Princess stood leaning over the balustrade that separated the field from the terrace. She was wearing elegant robes with a high collar. Generally, She was looking out of place around the training grounds. 

“Stelios, I believe. My brother introduced us all too briefly. I feel as though he's trying to keep you all to himself,” Ghanima said with a small stifled laugh. Looking Stelios up and down, she could see why. The man's muscled body was scantily clothed in only his loin cloth. Gleaming with the sweat and sand of battle, Stelios looked positively delicious.

“Keeping me for himself? I wouldn't put it past him,” the warrior said with a laugh.

Ghanima drew her attention away from his body with a subtle grin. “Indeed. Now, what have you done to our poor Duncan.”

Stelios sighed. He was slightly annoyed by the accusation. It wasn't his fault that Duncan's was tetchy, to say the least. “I haven't done anything. If you pardon my say so, the man is just an absolute-”

“Cock,” Ghanima finished for him, somehow giving the word an air of dignity. “Yes, I heard you before. He's not usually so boorish, I just wondered how you'd antagonized him.”

Stelios smirked up at the blonde. It seemed that perhaps Ghanima wasn't accusing him at all, rather seeking the secrets to his success. “Looking for excitement, Princess?”

“Well, you've stolen my brother away. I'd say you sort of owe me.” Ghanima pouted, but there was a mischievous twinkle in her glowing blue eyes. Stelios saw it and instantly knew he'd found a new comrade.

“I wouldn't want to disappoint.”

Ghanima had to stifle her laughter as Stelios, in front of all the men, challenged Duncan to a sparring match. And what made the moment that little bit sweeter... Stelios won. 

Or they tied, depending on how one looked at it.

Stelios fought Duncan and lost the first round. Ghanima had frowned at that, but when the Spartan challenged Duncan for a rematch he changed his tact.

Leto appeared beside his sister about halfway through that second fight. “What's going on, here?” he asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Your man, Stelios, has challenged Duncan to a fight and is doing surprisingly well, second round.” Ghanima responded without taking her eyes off the men.

“You mean he lost?” Leto asked, sounding slightly surprised.

“Oh, I was confused as well until I figured it out. That was tact. You see, Stelios fought Duncan the first time and let him win because it's not on to defeat the captain in front of his men and this time-” 

Ghanima was interrupted by a loud shout from Duncan as he landed another blow on Stelios' raised Shield. “Fight like a man, Spartan!”

“Now,” Ghanima continued, “he's working Duncan down to a tired, before he strikes.”

Leto breathed out a sound of awe. He watched as Ghanima's words proved true. Stelios had warn out Duncan. The man's attacks were coming in with longer and longer gaps between them. During one of these gaps Stelios lunged forward. He tripped Duncan and pressed his blunt sword to the mans chest as he hit the ground.

The men around them were silent. Most seemed unsure of whether to applaud Stelios' victory at all until a cheer from behind them drew attention. The men all turned and took a knee upon seeing there rulers on the terrace before them.

“Bravo!” Ghanima called out, as she applauded. “Not bad for our newcomer.”

Leto smiled, his hands clasped at the end of his own applause. “Indeed!” He cupped his hand to one side of his mouth and called out across the field. “Stelios! With me!”

The Spartan warrior bowed his head to the young Emperor with a wide grin. In an act of solidarity, he held out a hand for Duncan who was still prostrate on the sand. 

Duncan ignored it, however. He appeared to get over the shock of having been defeated and stood easily on his own.

“Well done, Spartan,” he muttered.

“Well fought, Swordmaster,” Stelios replied. He sheathed his sword and made his way to the terrace where Leto awaited him.

(o-O-o)

“Your man, Duncan,” Stelios started as they made their way though the halls, “is he always so joyless with the men at his command or has he just forgotten to remove cock from ass this morning?” He spoke freely. They were finally alone together, as they usually were at the end of Leto's many conferences throughout the day. Ghanima had left them to go read in the library after the fight.

The young Emperor just stared at Stelios with wide surprised eyes for a long moment before he burst with a light laugh. “As much as I hate to say it, I believe you will find it is the later.” Leto sniggered. “Give him time, Stelios, Duncan's good man and a fine warrior.”

Stelios grunted. Leto knew he would need more proof of Duncan's character than just his words. “Apparently, though I am able to defeat each of his men in succession I'm not up to your Duncan's standard.”

Leto let out a feigned gasp. “Well, come then! I would see you trained up to standard personally.”

Stelios raised a fine brow, grinning once more. There was something eager about Leto's words that had nothing to do with swordplay. “Do you think you'll present more of a challenge than your man, Duncan?”

Stelios couldn't help but notice that same spark in Leto's eyes as he'd seen in Ghanima's. 

“We shall see,” the Emperor said with a prurient grin.

(o-O-o)

Leto tried his best to fight fair. He still seemed to disappear before Stelios' eyes ever so often. Stelios often found himself having to block a sudden, unexpected attack from behind.

It was a long hour, extra training added on to the entire day he'd already spent in the sands with the rest of the city guards. Stelios found himself ashamedly unable to keep up with the young Emperor. His sweat loosened the grip he had on his sword and with a calculated blow it flew up out of his hand, spinning dangerously in the air above them before it was captured by the Leto.

Leto stepped towards Stelios until he stood over him ominously. The young Emperor held both their swords in hand. He crossed the two blades, resting them on Stelios' collarbone with their edges pressed to his throat. 

“On your knees, Spartan.”

Leto half expected Stelios to be enraged by loosing to him, still probably just a boy in the warrior's eyes, a boy he'd once considered nothing less than a privileged city prince.

But no, there was a deep respect in the Spartan's eyes... and much more than that. 

Stelios kneeled.

Leto's gaze followed him down. “Do you submit to me?” he demanded calmly. His stark-blue eyes were alight with emotion seen more often between the sheets than on the battlefield. Then again, those two could be so similar at times.

Stelios grinned roguishly. “Yes,” he growled.

Leto let out a deep sigh. The swords left his hands, falling to the ground with a loud clang. The young emperor stood above Stelios silently for a moment, then he dropped down with one knee on either side of the warriors muscled thighs, forcing him to sit back on his feet. In that position they ground their hips together. 

Stelios' stong hands slid down Leto's sweat slicked back, pulling the youth more firmly into his lap. The rough skin of Leto's arm pressed to the back of Stelios' neck, forcing the warrior closer. Their lips met and it felt like the first breath after having been held underwater.

Stelios pressed forward with a bruising force. He gripped Leto's neck, running his thumb across the rough skin there. His tongue thrust forward into the young Emperor's mouth, mimicking what he really wanted.

Leto moaned breathlessly as he broke the kiss. “Though I long for you inside me, the middle of the court is possible the worst place for it.”

Stelios smirked playfully. “Agree to disagree.” He had to conceed, using the great hall for practice was perfectly fine. Other things would be frowned upon. 

Leto stood swiftly. “Come,” he said. Taking Stelios by the hand, Leto pulled him out and through the halls. The two of the rushed around a corner, only to be stopped by a lovely blonde.

Ghanima raised a fine brow and smiled enigmaticall. “In a hurry?" she asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

Leto let go of Stelios and embraced his sister. “Ghanima! We were just- ah.”

Stelios cleared his throat. The both shifted uncomfortably.

Ghanima stifled a laugh. “Alright then. Well, Farad'n Carrino is looking for you, Leto.”

The young emperor let out a long breath. “Where is he?”

“Conference hall.”

“Stelios-”

“Don't worry about him, Leto!” Ghanima exclaimed. She latched onto Stelios' muscled arm. “Stelios is joining me on a walk around the terrace with me.”

“Oh?” Stelios was surprised by this little declaration, but he let himself be pulled away. He shrugged as he was taken further and further from Leto.

“Make sure you bring him back when you're done with him.” Leto said with a pout as he watched them leave. 

“I'll think about it.” Ghanima shouted back.

Leto sighed. He thought he'd been done with meetings for the day, but apparently not. The Empire never sleeps.

(o-O-o)

After meeting briefly with Farad'n, Leto left the conference hall. He made his way up the lonely halls back towards his room, silently hoping Stelios would be waiting for his return. Truthfully, Leto didn't put it past Ghanima to hide him away for herself.

Leto drifted through the halls, happily unheedful of anything around him. Turning around a sharp corner, he nearly ran into a guard stationed there. Looking up Leto realized it wasn't just any guard, and the man wasn't stationed, he was waiting.

“Leto.”

“Beloved Duncan,” Leto greeted the man in return. His words were spoken with cheerful familiarity, but his tone quickly turned dark. “Do you move to corner me?” Leto's spice blue eyes narrowed with a hint of suspicion.

Duncan let out a shaky breath. “I wish only to speak of your man, Stelios.”

Leto frowned. Duncan had his attention. “What of him?”

“Why do you keep him here? He acts as just another guard, another soldier. You have thousands!” Duncan wanted to shout, but he spoke instead in a harsh whisper. “Besides, you are the God Emperor now... what need do you have for a 'Personal Swordsmaster'?” He spat the title. 

“He is a great warrior, greater than his Fremen cousins and greater than any of the men I have here. He is the only one I would trust with my life and Ghanima's.” 

Leto saw Duncan's expression turn down at his words, but he did not let up. He knew he spoke harshly but his words were true and had to be known. “Perhaps, Duncan, it would please you if I were to give him a different title; since you obviously have quarrel with the fact that he now shares your title as Swordmaster. Perhaps, bodyservant or courtier?”

“Leto,” Duncan said in a warning tone, even though he knew there was very little he could do to challenge the boy Emperor's rule.

Duncan took a deep breath and tried to speak to Leto's past desires rather than his current goals. “Get rid of the man, I will do whatever it is you want of me. You have told me you desire my companionship greatly.”

Leto seemed to relax all over, taking calm breath and smiling at Duncan. “I desire your company and I always will, but Stelios is... he is my lover, Duncan, and I would have him with me.”

Duncan's blue-green eyes darkened with unmasked hostility. “Lover?” he scoffed. He knew that - of course he did, everyone did - but there was something about hearing it that made him unsure if it was jealousy or blind rage he now felt towards Stelios. Surely it could have been both.

“Yes,” Leto said firmly.

Duncan's brow creased. “You loved me once, didn't you?”

Leto was left speechless. It was true. He'd practically admitted as much to Stelios back in the Sietch. Hearing Duncan offering himself as- What? A replacement? 

Leto felt a slight chill creep over him. “Duncan you- you're my uncle.”

“But I'm not, not anymore.” 

Duncan reached out to Leto, moving to touch the smooth skin of his not as of yet cocooned arm. Halfway he stopped. He could see something in Leto's spice blue eyes. It wasn't something from the boy he'd helped raise, rather an ancient rage indiscriminate. Those eyes that did not belong to Leto silently told him it would be wise to retract his hand if he wished to keep it.

“Forgive me, God Emperor,” Duncan whispered, his speech turning formal. “I will not contend against you again.” With those words he excuse himself, walking past Leto and down the grand palace halls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ou... Creepy ass Duncan~! And for the next chapter... SEX!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty chapter is smutty~ PS. I started summer semester and - Oh God! - I forgot how much time classes take up after nearly a month off. I wish I'd finished this over my break! Sorry for the wait!

 

Leto entered his chambers and found them empty. Sighing mournfully, he made his way into the bedroom. Apparently Stelios had not yet returned from his jaunt around the palace with Ghanima. Damn. Leto had been so looking forward to wrapping himself around the larger man and falling asleep after a long day.

The young Emperor heard foot steps in the hall entering his sitting room. “Stelios?” He called out hesitantly for could not see beyond for the wall. Golden drapes and elaborate room-dividers obscured his view.

A guard stepped into view. He entered Leto's bedroom.

“Yes?” the armoured man responded with a frustrated grunt.

Leto sighed once more, but this time is was with relief. Seeing Stelios was like a breath of fresh air after his confrontation with Duncan earlier in the halls. Leto had very nearly mistaken him for a simple guard and cast him out of his rooms. It was an easy mistake to make, Stelios was dressed rather peculiarly. The warrior was wearing every piece of the elaborate trappings that made up the Arrakeen guard uniform.

Leto's gaze ran appreciatively over the black cloth and metal. “Stelios? You don't have to wear that. You know I prefer something easier to remove,” he teased, tugging at the other man's high collar and earning himself a short grunt.

“Well, your beloved sister goaded me into a game of dress-up.” Stelios pulled off the helmet and ran his fingers though his blond mane. “I can't believe your warriors wear these contraptions willingly,” he grunted.

“They do, believe it or not.” Leto chuckled. “It suits you, but I must admit I prefer you in your Spartan attire.” He moved to help Stelios out of the jacket. The thick fabric fell to the ground and pooled at their feet. Leto's deft fingers began to make short work of the buttons of the tight-fitting vest underneath.

“Do you indeed?” Stelios murmured. He knew full well how little there was to his Spartan “attire”. The constrictions of the city fashions in general were detestable, which was why Stelios stood so comfortably before Leto in only the thinest of black trousers.

The young emperor hummed, letting his fingertips caressed the skin he'd revealed stripping the other man. His hands trailed down the broad expanse of Stelios' torso. Solid muscle moved underneath sun darkened skin with the rise and fall of the warrior's breath.

Stelios hissed with pleasure as hands left his abdomen. One moved further south until Leto was caressing the prominent bulge of created by the length of his cock. In his arousal, Stelios let out a growling laugh. “Are you toying with me? Because I find that behaviour unfitting on an Emperor, young Leto.”

Leto smiled. Wetting his bottom lip, he turned seductive blue eyes on the handsome warrior before him. “I suppose you'll have to punish me then.”

Stelios let out a slow breath. His abdomen tightened at those words. “Mm, yes,” he murmured, his voice husky with lust. The tone of it made Leto shiver slightly. “I suppose I will.”

The warrior let his hands wander from where they'd been resting on the slight dip in Leto's hips. He palmed the young Emperor's rear before large hands gripped the soft flesh. Leto was drawn tight to him and the friction caused Leto to gasped. His hips stuttered forward and he pressed his palms to Stelios' muscled chest for balance, his fingertips clenching against the tanned skin there.

“Perhaps you will be punished with a spanking, should I be set to purpose.” Stelios let his teeth graze the shell of Leto's ear as he spoke. The sensation drew a soft moan from the young emperor. He kissed and nibbled a path all the way down Leto's jaw until he could press soft kiss to the corner of the younger man's mouth. “Yes, you will be punished... but not tonight,” he whispered, his lips bare milometers from Leto's.

Leto practically keened with frustration. “You mean to leave me unsatisfied?” He demanded with an incredulous gaze. “Must I order you to take me to bed, warrior?”

With a salacious grin spreading across his lips, Stelios chuckled. “Oh, I will take you to bed, _God Emperor_ ,” he said cheekily. “No orders necessary.”

Stelios' lips met Leto's in a furious kiss. Strong hands traced up the curve of Leto's spine, bringing their chests together. Even with the cool evening breeze flowing in from the terrace, they were hot for each other.

“No orders?” Leto asked, breaking their kiss. He looked up at Stelios under long lashes. His hands massaged the warrior's chest, gripping the firm muscle underneath.

Stelios let out a muted breath. Something inside of him clenched tight with pleasure at the suggestion. “Well, if you'd like.”

Leto smiled, a devious little smile. He withdrew from Stelios' arms and stepped back from the man until his knees hit the mattress of his bed. He made a show of opening his trousers before letting them fall to the floor to be kicked away. Then, he slowly unbuttoned the gossamer shirt he wore, letting it fall down his shoulders.

“Would you kneel for me, Spartan?” Leto asked, his tone full of suggestion. He sat upon the bed, gazing up at Stelios as he awaited the warrior's reply.

Stelios approached the young Emperor once more, his face stoic. He stepped between Leto's slightly spread legs and kneeled on the stone floor between them. This was very different then the knee of submission he took when Leto bested him during a crossing of swords, but his response was the same.

“Always,” he whispered. There was no longer any humour in his words.

Leto stared into Stelios' eyes and swallowed apprehensively. He reached forward, pulling the other man to him. Their lips met and parted, their kiss falling from the realm of innocence to a world of lust and passion. With Leto seated on the bed, Stelios kneeling could still easily reach him. The large man leaned forward to kiss Leto's chest and his hands moved down the younger man's thin sides to rest heavy on his waist.

Leto shivered from the sensation of that hot mouth on his skin. He let out a small pleasured hiss and his hands moved to grip the silken sheets next to his hips. Stelios was so close Leto could feel the skin of man's chest against his arousal.

Stelios gazed up at him, his startling blue-eyes eyes watching Leto's expression closely while his lips trailed down the skin of the younger man's abdomen. Stelios reached Leto's lower belly, his hot breath, moistening the skin there, causing it to prickle pleasantly.

Leto arched back with a moan. Stelios' mouth was on him. Leto tried to thrust into that wet heat, but strong hands held him down. Leto could do nothing but fall back onto the mattress. One hand released his hip to smooth up Leto's stomach. Rough fingertips ran over the young emperor's nipples, drawing muffled cries from him.

Leto reached down between his legs to run elegant fingers though Stelios' blond mane as the man worked his cock. Those fingers tightened to a gripping fist when the warriors hand returned from his chest and found it's way back between his legs.

Stelios let his rough hand trail from the base of Leto's cock down until his fingertips pressed to the younger man's tight hole. He pressed one inside with some resistance. They needed oil.

Stelios stood from between Leto's legs, much to the young Emperor's disappointment. He kneeled on the edge of the mattress and took Leto's hips in hand. They manoeuvred further up the bed until Leto lay practically buried in the fine silk pillows along the headboard.

Stelios reached to the bedside table where a burning wick was balanced on the edge of a clay dish in a pool of lamp oil. He coated his fingers with the warm oil before reaching back down between Leto's spread thighs. He ran oiled fingers over the twitching muscle before pushing slowly inside.

Leto's back arched in a way that it had seemed his new shell wouldn't let him. “How are you so good at this?”

Stelios grinned. “I had spent a few lonely nights with fellows, back in Sparta,”

“Fellows?” Leto raised a fine dark brow. “Mm, perhaps your physician, Astinos?” he asked between soft moans.

Stelios chuckled. “Ai, he can take a cock.”

Leto laughed breathlessly at the way Stelios paused for a moment with a fondness in his eyes. “I shall have to best him then,” he said with a little roll of his hips that pulled Stelios' fingers deeper inside.

The warrior's eyes lit at the sound of challenge in Leto's voice. Leaning forward, He slowly fucked steadily in and out of Leto with three digits. “It will be a hard feat,” he teased.

“You doubt I can take your cock when you've already had me once before?” Leto demanded between panting breaths. He was smirking up at Stelios, but the expression broke quickly. He threw back his head and keened softly as Stelios withdrew his fingers from him.

The warrior kissed Leto's chin, grinning a toothsome smile. “More than once if memory serves,” he murmured, leaning over to reach for the oil again.

It was Leto's turn to smile fondly. He pulled Stelios down against him once more. They didn't kiss so much as pant hotly against each other's lips as Stelios slicked his cock. The head pressed to Leto's opening and pressed in.

Blunt nails clawed at the Stelios' back. He slid in until he was fully sheathed within Leto, the mix of sensations causing him to groan. Leto could imagine the prominent red welts on Stelios' tanned skin from his nails biting into it. Visible for all of Arrakeen to see. Stelios was his.

In between rough breaths, Stelios pressed hot kisses to the pale flesh of Leto's neck. He let his mouth run along the hair line that differentiated the softness of Leto's skin from the shell slowly encasing it. He thrust forward, rolling his hips, moving inside of Leto before pulling nearly all the way out and trusting in again.

Leto gasped quietly as Stelios slid into him with short tantalizing thrust before switch so that he pulled out until Leto could feel the head of Stelios' cock stretching that tight ring of muscle before he thrust forward one more. After a few similar thrusts, strong hands gripped Leto's thighs. Stelios pulled him down the bed, more firmly onto his cock. Leto's thighs fell open around the warrior's trim waist; he was practically in the other man's lap.

Their new angle let Stelios burry the length of his cock impossibly deeper in Leto. The young emperor let out a strangled moan. He could feel Stelios, rubbing the bundle of nerves inside him that made him see white with every thrust. Leto reached between his lets to stroke himself in time with Stelios. He felt the familiar build up of tension as his climax approached. When Stelios pushed his hand away and replaced it with his own, Leto couldn't hold back. He arched up off the bed, hands gripping Stelios' biceps. The large man was still trusting into him, so Leto was made to ride out his climax, shuddering pleasantly with each thrust.

He stared up at Stelios, his sapphire blue eyes filled with excited lust as the warrior finished inside of him. Though he was already thoroughly satisfied, Leto rolled his hips to match Stelios' thrusts, causing the larger man to growl. The young Emperor's red lips parted slightly as he let a soft breath every time Stelios' slid in. The warrior claimed those lips as he pressed his hips forward one last time, burying himself deep inside of the Leto with moan that was nearly muffled by their kiss. Leto shuddered as the familiar wet warmth of Stelios' seed spread though him. His legs squeezed tighter around the larger man, as if he could pull him in closer.

Stelios leaned over Leto, still inside of him. Muscled arms supported the warrior's weight as he stared down at the younger man's content expression. Stelios let deft fingers run gently through soft brown hair. “Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice was barely a whisper.

Leto's eyes cracked open. He gazed up at Stelios, tired and slightly confused. He saw the warriors eyes shift focus to his arm and smiled. “My arm?”

“Your arm, your skin, this path you've chosen,” Stelios confirmed.

Leto looked at the aforementioned appendage, safely enveloped in a warm cocoon. “No,” he answered simply. “It does not hurt, quite the opposite.”

Stelios took some comfort in that. His cock slipped satisfied from Leto as he pulled the younger man over to him by that arm. It and Leto's cheek pressed to his chest in a light embrace.

The young Emperor caressed Stelios with his fingertips and palm still soft. After a while, he flipped his hand over to trail the roughness of his knuckles down the warriors body. “Does it hurt you?”

Stelios grinned roguishly. “I relish it.” He practically growled as Leto dragged his arm across his abdomen. The roughness of the Emperor's new skin scratched Stelios, leaving thin, pale-red welts in its wake.

They slept through the long night, though Leto did little sleeping. He wasn't even certain he needed to sleep anymore, but old habits die hard. By morning his eyes were dark with thought, so much so that Stelios commented on it when he woke.

“I worry for Duncan.” Leto whispered. He wouldn't go so far as to mention their encounter the night before. Stelios wasn't a jealous man, but he was rather protective – as well he should be while holding the position of Personal Swordmaster. Still, there wasn't cause for creating disorder in the household. “I don't think he will meet my eyes anymore.”

Stelios let out a sleepy huff. “Good,” he commented, pulling Leto closer to him.

“Stelios?” Leto looked up at him, demanding explanation.

“I would not care for his eyes on you.”

Leto's brow creased slightly. “I trust him as family, Stelios.” He tried to elucidate. “You asked me once why I called for him when I was unwell. He used to care for me and Ghanima when we were sick, before we grew and were able to care for each other.”

“Ah...” Stelios nodded. “Well that doesn't explain why you called out his name while I was lying between your legs-”

Leto's eyes grew wide. Had Stelios already guessed that-?

“-while you were ill and jarring yourself.” The warrior looked down at him with a cheeky smile.

“O-oh.” Leto was mentally kicking himself for jumping to conclusions. Still, must have been a happy surprise for Stelios that with all his new, seemingly infinite wisdom Leto could still blush so prettily.

“Perhaps you have deeper feelings for him?”

 _Damn_. Leto had so hoped the warrior wouldn't notice his discomfiture about the subject. “N-no, I don't.”

Stelios raised a skeptical brow. “I'm not a jealous man, Leto. I assume by your honesty that you already knew that,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the Emperor's shoulder. “As long as I am the only one to lie between your legs in future, I do not care for any past interests you may have had. As you should not for mine.”

Leto chuckled, remembering their little discussion about Astinos in the heat of passion. He pressed his hand to Stelios' forehead, forcing him to tilt his head back. Stelios grinned.

The lay in a companionable silence as the morning sun filtered through golden drapes.

“You are right, I used to have... feelings for Duncan that were more than was fitting,” Leto admitted finally with a pained expression. “Before he married Aria... and maybe while they were married, but I never acted on them. I wouldn't.”

“And you shan't.” Stelios stated.

Leto smiled a tight smile. The warrior was so self-assured. Leto couldn't help but find it endearing. “Does my guard command me?” he asked flirtatiously.

“He does.” Stelios lowered his head so he could whisper a breathy laugh into Leto's ear. “And he would have you obey.”

Leto shoved him away with a short laugh. “And if I don't obey him?”

Stelios' eyes shone with a mischievous light. “Then perhaps he will make good past threats and punish you.”

Leto's threw his head back against the pillows with a short groan. “Had you not just exhausted me last night,” he cried out dramatically, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead.

Stelios let out a short burst of laughter. “Ha! Exhausted? Liar.”

Leto smiled back at him cheekily. “True, but I am not up to it. Besides, I must wash and we both have our duties to attend.”

“Later then, little emperor.” Stelios replied. Leaning back against the pillows, he watched as Leto gracefully climbed out of their bed. Stelios enjoyed the view of Leto's pale behind moving around the room as the youth prepared for his days duties. When Leto pulled on his pants, Stelios sighed regretfully. He did have work to attend as well.

The next day, Leto finished his duties early. He let his offices to search for Stelios and came upon and argument in the training grounds. Stelios was shouting. Duncan was giving orders; which were shouted, but as he believed that he was Stelios' superior, he was apparently allowed to shout.

 

(o-O-o)

 

“Your tact will see your armies blood on the sand before they can even draw metal!”

“I don't need your opinions! You will do as you're commanded, Spartan!”

“If you could pull head from ass for one-”

“How dare you speak me to me that-”

“I will speak as I see fit-”

“Insubordinate-”

“-fucking cock!

 

(o-O-o)

 

“What is the meaning of this?”

The two Swordmasters turned to see their emperor standing on the sweat soaked sands of the training grounds. They bowed their heads in unison, giving quiet murmurs of 'God Emperor' as Leto approached.

Leto stared the two men down. He did not appreciate discord, especially not in front of the subordinate guards, who were all either kneeling in his presence or pretending they hadn't noticed the argument at all.

“What is the meaning of this?” Leto repeated slowly.

“Your _Personal_ Swordmaster finds our battle tactics - tactics that have served this empire well since our foundation – to be lacking,” Duncan spat.

Leto's solemn gaze turned to the Spartan. “Stelios?”

“I only wished to inform the captain that these tactics may be outdated. I believe that there are Spartan strategies which may do the empire well in future.” Stelios glared back towards Duncan with narrow eyes.

Leto's looked fixedly back and forth between the two men. He knew it would be his place to make the final decision. “Duncan.”

“Yes, God Emperor.”

Leto took a moment, scrutinize the other man before spoke. “Put Stelios in change of a battalion. He will train those men in his way and we will see who fairs best with a tournament at the upcoming celebrations.”

“My-”

“Do not move to contest my decision. He's entirely capable, and besides, he seems bored,” Leto interjected, cutting Duncan off.

Duncan's eyes shifted to Stelios. The man shrugged placidly, but one could easily tell just by looking that he was holding back a victorious grin.

Duncan took a deep breath, calming himself. He nodded a curt bow. “Of course, God Emperor.” That said he turned back to his men.

Leto's gaze returned to Stelios. His lover stood with his head lowered respectfully. It was wise of him not to flaunt this victory and Leto was grateful that he didn't. Stelios did well not to undermine him by showing any pride at his decision. Duncan was another story. His constant insubordination was becoming a problem.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of free time before class, but it's really hard (and possibly not recommended) to get into a smut writing mood before one has to go to class. But anyway...  
> Chapter 4 – THE FINALE will be up soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: brief description of violence and blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Leto/Ghani this chapter then a shit load more Leto/Stelios. 
> 
> This story sort of just dissolved into gratuitous porn. Sorry about that... XD

Leto returned to his rooms. He'd left Stelios and Duncan to sort out their new instructions between them. There was little hope that it would go smoothly, but Leto hadn't been interested in hanging about watching the two Swordmasters squabble.

He much preferred reading in the quiet solitude of his rooms. He picked up a book that he'd commandeered earlier from Irulan's library off the bedside table and plunked down on his soft sheets.

Leto thought he would be enjoying the rest of his day reading the old myths and war histories of the ancient Freemen tribes of Arrakis, but then there was a knock at the wall just outside his bedroom. 

Ghanima stood in the arching threshold connecting Leto's bedroom with the chambers beyond. “Brother! I find you alone,” she exclaimed happily, sauntering into his room.

“Yes, sister. Are you so surprised?” Leto barely looked up from his book. He could still sense his sister approaching the bed.

“Well you have been almost as attached to Stelios as Irulan is to her books.”

“Forbid!” Leto exclaimed with a laugh.

Ghanima stopped at the edge of the bed. “Where is your Spartan?”

“Training, as is his way.”

Ghanima climbed onto the sheets next to him, giving him a teasing nudge with her shoulder. “Neglecting his duties as your lover?” 

Leto sighed, not annoyed by the question rather content to answer it. “No, I like the time to myself.”

“Oh, am I interrupting then?”

“Never.” Leto closed his book with a soft thud. He turned to Ghanima and kissed her soundly. 

Their lips met in a manner that was far from what could be deemed a modest kiss between siblings, but neither of the twins had ever been able to bring themselves to care for what was modest. One of Ghanima's hands came up to touch the now rough skin at Leto's neck, pressing as her lips moved against his. When they parted ways, Leto rested his forehead against hers and smiled. “I always have time for beloved sister,” he murmured against her lips.

“Mm,” The blonde hummed contentedly. “I am glad to hear it. Now, tell me about Stelios.” Ghanima rolled onto her back, looking at Leto over one shoulder, waiting for a response.

“What of him?” Leto asked, setting his book aside so it no longer lay between them on the bed. “You know him as well as I.” He heard Ghanima giggle and corrected himself quickly with a slight blush. “Alright, not quite as well, I suppose.”

“Not quite.” Ghanima repeated with a wide grin. She inched forward across the sheets. Still smiling, she pressed her nose to Leto's. “Is he proportionate?”

Leto frowned. Stelios was not a man about whom one could make any disparage remarks regarding appearance. “How so do you mean?” 

Ghanima bit her lip, looking up at her twin though long lashes. “Large stature, muscles, large hands, large... cock?” She teased him with a malicious grin.

Leto had the grace to flush slightly. He let out a sighing laugh. “I can not lie, it is that,” the young Emperor admitted.

“And in bed-”

“Ghani,” Leto whined.

“-do you-”

He shook his head indignantly. “I am not going to answer anymore.”

“-take him or does he-”

Ghanima didn't have to finish. Leto pulled back from her. He had to fight the urge to smother her with a pillow. “Yes! The second! What you were about to say! Just stop, please!”

“Alright.” Ghanima sighed. The lay together in a companionable silence for a while. That was until Ghanima perked up again. “What's your favourite position.”

“Ghani! Out!”

“I have wondered, Leto. Do you like it on your back or do you ride him? Top from the bottom, as it were?”

“Out!” Leto shouted again, embarrassed. He stood from the bed and began tugging his tittering sister along with him towards the door.

“I thought we always had time for sister.” Ghanima pouted.

Leto let out an incredulous laugh. “You, dear sister, have exhausted it! Out!”

Stelios was there at the door when Leto opened it. The warrior was confronted by the amusing show the twins put on, Leto forcibly removing his laughing sister from his rooms. 

Stelios eyed the brother and sister with an amused smirk. “What's going on here then?” he inquired as he and Ghanima were made to switch places at the door.

“Stelios! Hello...” Ghanima said. Her tone seemed to be dripping with unspoken innuendo, but Stelios was not aware of the context.

“Hello?” The warrior raised a fine brow, slightly bemused. 

“Ghani was just leaving.” Leto finally removed his sister and slammed the door on her just as she was about to protest again. He pressed back to it with a sigh. 

Stelios couldn't keep the grin off his lips. “Did you enjoy an evening spent with your sister?” he teased.

Leto laughed awkwardly. “You could say that.”

Stelios chucked and pulled Leto to him with one hand on the young Emperor's back. He leaned in for a kiss which Leto accepted without hesitation. There was something about Stelios that caused Leto to wish everything else would just disappear, it seemed to at when they were together. The young Emperor let his fingers trail down Stelios' naked chest, sliding easily in the sweat coating his skin.

Stelios broke away with a soft growl. “It has been a long day. I will wash.”

“You needn't.” Leto pressed his lips to the warrior's neck, licking then gently biting the skin there.

Stelios moaned at the sensation. “You would have me fresh from training, hm?”

The idea had Leto gasping into the crook of Stelio's neck. The Emperor spent much of the afternoon before Ghanima joined him reading histories of war and soldier brotherhood. The idea of having Stelios 'fresh from battle' -as it were- had become a truly compelling one. Leto could easily paint a picture in his mind. Stelios would be coated with blood, sweat and the desert sands, much like when they'd first met. He would be rough, but giving, taking Leto right there on the sun warmed ground and Leto would come for him again and again.

“What is in your mind, my Emperor?” Stelios whispered, his teeth grazing the outer shell of Leto's ear.

Leto laughed breathlessly. “Oh the most shameful acts,” he answered truthfully. “I've been waiting all afternoon for you. Just... imagining.” Leto watched his own hands caress the muscled expanse of Stelios' chest.

The Warrior sucked in a sharp breath, drawing Leto's gaze to his lips. The Emperor bit his own lip in a feigned display of innocence, looking up at Stelios though his dark lashes. “Do you find me wicked, Stelios? I would not want you to feel the need to...” He did not finish, simply shrugged letting Stelios' imagination take over.

The warrior let out a barking laugh. “Ha! You intend me to make good old promises?”

“If my naughtiness spurs you to purpose.”

Stelios laughed, his voice husky with lust. “Tell me what it is you want, God Emperor.”

Leto's glowing, blue eyes turned dark with lust, gazing up at Stelios from under long lashes. There was a sound that was near a growl as he was shoved down onto the mattress before he found himself pressed against Stelio's firm chest. The Spartan's hands ran all over Leto's skin and then finally their lips met again, but with a roughness that they hadn't yet experienced together. 

The words hardly needed to be said.

Leto would have Stelios punish him.

(o-O-o)

He had heard cries from the Emperor's rooms. Duncan knew it was not his place, but peaked in on Leto. If aid was needed it would not do to simply ignore these sounds. The guards post in the hall were long gone, unneeded with that Spartan's presence. Duncan knew the man, Stelios, would be inside with Leto.

Another sound, the familiar sound of Leto's laughter was clearly audible as he moved further into the Emperor's grand chambers. Duncan realized his presence wouldn't be welcome if Leto was not in need of aid, especially after their earlier confrontation in the hall. Still, He continued forward out of some deep-seated curiosity to see why it was Stelios who Leto held to close.

The door to the main hall had been closed but unlocked. Duncan's entrance had yet to be noticed and he didn't see any harm in checking up on Leto, after all, he'd done so a hundred times before.

He could hear Stelios' gruff voice from the adjoining bedroom. “In Sparta, your _naughtiness_ would warrant a spanking, my Emperor; for one your age should know better.” 

Duncan walked towards the sound and upon turning the corner he froze. 

He could see them now - both Leto and Stelios - from his place hidden behind a tall partition. Through the ornate slits in the wooden screen, he could see all that was happening on the bed in the centre of the room.

They were both completely naked. Stelios was sitting cross-legged on the bed and Leto was facing him in his lap. Leto's arms and legs were wrapped tight around the larger man's broad frame. “Must we truly walk all the way back to Sparta?” The God Emperor was... pouting?

Stelios was grinning, but his brow was raised as if he'd just been jibed at. “You would mock me with what for you is an easy feat?”

Leto smirked down at him. “If so, what would you do?”

Stelios' smile turned wolfish. “I will add it to your list of offences and perhaps I would say that we do not need to walk all the way across the desert.”

(o-O-o)

Leto gasped into Stelios' mouth as the man's open palm landed on him with an audible smack. His back arched and his fingers found their way into the warrior's golden mane. 

It was a slightly awkward position, being in Stelios' lap as the man's hands slapped the flesh of his rear. Leto would have had Stelios pull him over his lap and do him properly, but he was in love with the feeling of Stelios' cock grinding against his own with each slap, each time Leto arched against him.

Stelios tutted, pausing in his spanking for a moment. “It's not punishment at all if you enjoy it, my Emperor,” he murmured this as his hands kneaded the round cheeks of Leto's ass.

“Good- ah!” Leto's apparent insolence was rewarded with another smack. His pale skin was already growing red. The young Emperor shivered against Stelios from the delicious pleasure of it all. 

He pressed his lips to Leto's chest, licking, sucking and biting gently at his skin. He rolled Leto's right nipple with one thumb while his other hand continued working between Leto's spread cheeks. Stelios prepared him while they were still facing one another, thrusting up against Leto to receive some much needed friction. Every so often his hand would pull away before coming back down with a resounding smack that would make the young Emperor jump slightly. Then Leto would gasp as Stelios' thick digits returned, pressing into him. 

(o-O-o)

From his hiding place, Duncan wondered if he should stop this blatant act of perversity. Surely it was completely unacceptable for the God Emperor to be in such a position, bent over Stelios' muscled body his pale back curving with violent pleasure.

However, Duncan did not move to halt the wild tryst and neither did he leave. Instead, Duncan found himself caressing the heavy length of his hardening cock though the thin fabric of his trousers. Long had his dreams been filled with the guilty images that were now made flesh before him. True Duncan would rather it was himself in Stelios' place, rubbing his aching cock between the soft skin of the young Emperor's thighs, but he would have this if the alternative was nothing.

(o-O-o)

Stelios pulled Leto to him to, liking the other's lips before thrusting his tongue into Leto's mouth in parody of what was soon to come. Leto, aggressive as he was in their lovemaking, let Stelios dominate fore the briefest moment before he took the larger man's head in his hands, deepening their kiss.

Stelios was finished playing Leto's little game of punishment. He flipped them over so that the younger man was on his back. Stelios moaned at the sight of those lucid blue eyes staring up at him, glazed with lust. It was apparent to Stelios the spanking had been satisfactory, but very much ready for more. Stelios pressed his lips to Leto's once more, kissing him soundly with a lusty passion before rolling him onto his front.

Stelios mounted him from behind with a rough grunt that had Leto's cock twitching against the silken sheets. His hands gripped the tight cheeks of Leto's ass as he rolled his hips, thrusting forward. The sensation caused Leto to let out a breathy moan, trying to lift himself his position on his stomach so he could press back against the thick length inside him.

(o-O-o)

Duncan watched on, griping the edge of the partition with one hand, his knuckles turning white. His other hand slipped below the waist band of his trousers, inside. He took his cock in hand, stroking himself in time with Stelios' impassioned thrusts into Leto's pliant young body.

The sweet sounds of Leto's deep moans and gasp went straight to his cock. Duncan could practically feel himself twitching with every noise that slipped past Leto's perfect red lips. He ached to be in Stelios' place.

(o-O-o)

Leto knew that this position was somehow part of the punishment he'd demanded. Stelios was well aware of the fact that he hated such a lack of control. Even though Leto knew he could escape easily, take control, being pressed practically face down into the sheets while Stelios rocked in and out over him was driving Leto mad. His entire body was shaking from the pleasure of it, but he was through being teased, it was his turn to have the upper hand.

Using a strength he usually reserved for their sparing, Leto pulled away and wrestled Stelios. Quickly, he had Stelios on his back. The Spartan was grinning up at Leto straddling him, his blue-green eyes dark with desire.

Leto lowered himself onto Stelios' cock with a shuddering moan. He took Stelios' hands in his, twining their fingers together, using Stelios for support as he rode him. Leto pressed forward, lowering their twined hands to the bed and pinning Stelios' arms to the sheets above his head. 

Stelios groaned to urge Leto on. He lay there, splayed out and exposed as Leto continued rolling his hips, moving up and down in his lap. Leto's hot breath warmed a path up his chest. The assault on his senses set him off. He thrust off the bed as much as Leto would allow as he came. Their lips met for a heated moment before Leto jerked back with a breathless moan.

(o-O-o)

That sound and the sight of Leto's pale skin, exposed so sensually as he threw his head back in his release, hit Duncan like trigger. However it did not inspire his climax. Instead of lust and passion, he felt a sudden surge of emotion not his own; rage with savage intent. Any arousal he had felt was suddenly washed from his mind, Duncan drew his sword and stepped out from behind the divider. 

(o-O-o)

Stelios saw Duncan coming. His eyes had been drawn to the corner of the room by the quiet 'shing' sound of a sword sliding from its sheath. There there was a soft gleam of light hitting metal. Stelios rolled Leto aside just as the blade came down upon them.

The intruder lunged forward again and received a firm foot in the gut. He fell from the bed and was followed closely by Stelios who took on a defensive battle stance even in his unclothed state.

“Duncan?” Leto gasped from the bed. Stelios looked back only for a moment to see the young Emperor clutching the sheets to himself, frozen but not from fear. His eyes were alight with horror and disbelief.

When Stelios turned back to their attack, he could see that it was indeed Duncan. The other Swordmaster's eyes were crazed in an expression of rage not his own.

Stelios fought him, dodging Duncan's blade, completely unprotected. Duncan made for Leto each time he drove Stelios back, but the Spartan was always there blocking soon after. Even in his crazed state Duncan seemed to realize that he wouldn't get to Leto without going though Stelios first. He turned and threw the Spartan back across the floor.

Stelios slammed against the bedside table. He reached for his sword, his Spartan sword, kept at his bedside as a reminder of home. It was just out of reach, leaning against the wall at at the other side of the table.

He hardly had time to move for it. Duncan lunged forward at Stelios again, kicking him just below the ribs. 

Stelios felt the air punched out of his lungs. His head banged back against the stone floor. He looked to his left and reached out. His fingertips just reached the grip of his sword.

Duncan stepped towards him, his arm drawing back, sword at the ready.

Stelios clasped his hand around the hilt of his blade just as Duncan moved to thrust forward. The blade just missed him, came down and lodged into the side table. The misjudgement gave Stelios a brief window for attack. 

He drew his sword and stabbed it though Duncan's gut. The Swordmaster lurched back then spun around only to meet Stelios' sword at his neck. The blade sliced across sensitive skin there. Blood spilled forth and Duncan was dead in seconds.

(o-O-o)

“Stelios?”

Stelios turned from his vanquished opponent, his eyes full of confusion. He was panting to regain breath. Splashes of blood painted his heaving chest. “Leto, Duncan, he attacked you. Why would he-?”

Leto stared down at Duncan's lifeless body. His mouth hung open as if he was about to speak, but he could not find words.

“He's dead? Stelios, I should have- I could have helped you I just-” He hadn't been able to move. The minute he'd seen Duncan coming at him with knife in hand he'd froze. In his mind he did not understand. Why beloved Duncan? It was not possible.

Leto stood on shaky legs, getting off the bed on the opposite side to where Stelios stood and Duncan's corpse lay. As he backed off he could see only a single hand and growing pool of blood. Leto turned from the sight. “I have to have a new one made. I need- Duncan he is- he is part of my path. I have to...” Leto trailed off, shaken by what had just happened, but unable to fully grasp the reality of it.

Stelios watched him with a confused frown. “Make a new- Duncan, he was a ghola?”

“A ghola, yes.” Leto answered with a wavering, haunted voice. “The real Duncan Idaho has been dead for years.” He spoke as if he were simply trying to reassure himself. 

Stelios sheathed his blade and placed it back against the edge of the bed. He did not speak. His silence brought Leto to search his expression for the meaning behind it. “You do not approve?” he assumed.

“My people have never understood the concept. Let the dead rest.” He stood on the other side of the room, staring down at the fallen opponent. “Must you make him anew?”

Leto blinked, confused. “Stelios?”

Stelios sighed. “Let the dead rest, Leto,” he repeated gently. “This is a time of peace for Arrakis, is it not? You have no need of armies and generals. Promote one of your palace guards and see Duncan interred.”

Leto considered this. Perhaps it would be for the best. But Duncan...

“Besides,” Stelios added carefully, “a new ghola may exhibit a similar... glitch.”

Blue eyes caught on the pool of blood at the end of the bed once more. “You are right,” Leto whispered. “How foolish I was not to have seen Alia's plight as a warning.” He shook his head. A fool, how could he have ignored such an omen?

“I will deal with this, but first I am walking you to your sister's chambers, stay with her this night.”

“Stelios.”

“Yes, Leto?”

The young Emperor crossed the room and took Stelios' face in both hands, smearing the splattering of blood across his right cheekbone. Leto guided their lips together in a tender kiss. _Thank you again, my Warrior,_ he though, but did not say. He did not need to for Stelios knew his mind well. 

(o-O-o)

In the coming days Stelios stood beside Leto as the newly appointed Head of the Arrakeen Royal guard. Leto had been scarred by Duncan's passing, emotionally drained by the loss of one who had once been held so close. The unitary title and position of Swordmaster was left unclaimed. Stelios did not mention taking it, Leto knew he much preferred the subtle intimacy his additional name entailed.

Personal Swordmaster. 

The God Emperor eyed Stelios standing at the right of his throne. He observed the way the golden light from the sun filtered though the throne room and caught the Spartan's blond mane. The warrior had donned the black uniform, but was surrounded with a halo of light. 

Leto's breath nearly caught in his throat. A part of him felt unworthy of Stelios, a dark part of his being. It was the same repressed part of Leto that was glad to be rid of Duncan, the same part that he knew Stelios could see when he stared at Leto with worried eyes. It was like Leto's skin, not truly a part him.

Leto reached out for Stelios, touching the man's arm more to comfort himself than to draw his attention. “Will you be the one I share this path with, my Stelios?” He ushered the man to kneel at his side. “Will you be forever at my side?”

Stelios gazed up at him, his expression displaying some confusion. His eyes softened as he replied, “I would have it no other way, God Emperor.”

Leto knew he needn't have asked.

(o-O-o)

The End~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry, that ending was a bit dark. This series was my first time posting since I was a little kid posting crack on FF.net. I hope the more I write the better I will get at it!
> 
> I'm now working on my Archie/Robbie (Inglorious Bastards/Atonement CrossOver). So stay tuned for that! HAPPY MCFASSY TUESDAY!
> 
> P.S. Wow, I wrote four chapters before I noticed that 'God Emperor' is not hyphenated... and that I was only hyphenating it 50% of the time. Good job, self.

**Author's Note:**

> I've watched all of Spartacus:Vengeance between posting these parts and I have to admit some of Stelios' angry dialogue towards Duncan in later chapters may involve heavy use of swearing and of the word 'cock'. He's Spartan, it kind of works. :P


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